


third degree

by himuup (kpop_ficmix_posting)



Category: VIXX
Genre: M/M
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2016-09-11
Updated: 2016-09-11
Packaged: 2018-08-14 09:53:06
Rating: General Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 3,097
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/8008879
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/kpop_ficmix_posting/pseuds/himuup
Summary: <blockquote class="userstuff">
              <p>It was something like three months after they officially met—at Hakyeon's stupid party that kind of ended up being a total success—that Jaehwan had decided Taekwoon absolutely hated him.</p>
            </blockquote>





	third degree

**Author's Note:**

  * For [disappointed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointed/gifts).
  * Inspired by [A Sequence of Eight Peculiar Nothings](https://archiveofourown.org/works/7270975) by [disappointed](https://archiveofourown.org/users/disappointed/pseuds/disappointed). 



It wasn't everyday—or any day, for that matter—that Jaehwan was roused by knocking. Especially not at 4a.m., after falling asleep on the couch for the third consecutive night. Blearily, he stumbled as if drunk, knocking his foot against a recently emptied butterfly tank. His toe throbbed a moment, face pinched unattractively as he opened the front door to find Taekwoon there, with something balanced precariously in his palm.

'Yours?' he inquired softly. Expressionless, except for his eyes; Taekwoon could pass as bored, but when Jaehwan looked closer he could see the discomfort rising on the other's face.

It was hard to see without his glasses, the sleep worsening it tenfold; it wasn't until Taekwoon raised his hand and shoved it into Jaehwan's face that he saw Taekwoon was holding his rhinoceros beetle.

With a yelp, he coddled the beetle between warm palms; it was unnerving to think Taekwoon had been carrying it around that way, giving it all the room it needed to plunged to its death right out of his hand. But it was more disconcerting to think the beetle had gone missing without Jaehwan's notice in the slightest.

'Where—?' but Taekwoon was already leaving. 'Hey—'

'In my bathroom,' Taekwoon threw back. 'Hard to miss.'

'When?'

'Uh, right now?'

Too dazed to be embarrassed, Jaehwan smiled at the insect like maybe it'd smile back, comfort easing into him. He called a soft thank you that Taekwoon didn't acknowledge, for he was already at his own doorstep a few flats down the hall, leaving everything in a dim mid-morning haze.

 

 

It was something like three months after they officially met—at Hakyeon's stupid party that kind of ended up being a total success—that Jaehwan had decided Taekwoon absolutely hated him. And this was based on nothing more than Taekwoon's hands.

It was after a lot of observation (something Jaehwan would admit he wasn't very good at), but in time he realized that when Hakyeon was around Taekwoon was hardly tense. There was the sharp line of his jaw, but the rest of him would wither like petals in winter, drab but still intact, like Hakyeon sedated him. But it was Wonsik that was the one he was closest to, which Jaehwan may or may not have been jealous of for reasons he couldn't understand. It was when Wonsik was around that Taekwoon allowed himself to speak louder than a murmur, color in his cheeks and sparks of light in stone cold eyes. Unlike Hakyeon, Wonsik didn't coddled Taekwoon, but gave him room to breathe—and based off this, Jaehwan tried in his own way to give Taekwoon all the room he could possibly need. And it seemed that lately, even Sanghyuk was able to earn one of Taekwoon's rare smiles. But as for Jaehwan, all he was ever offered was more than vaguely annoyed sighs, sharp glances that made him recoil. It was like Taekwoon saved up all his distaste for Jaehwan, and Jaehwan only.

And even then, Jaehwan didn't think much of it. Surely it was just how Taekwoon was: a little fierce, inwardly curled in on himself at all times, like the pill beetles he kept in jars in the living room (he still hadn't found a tank small enough for them to not slip out of). But it was Taekwoon's hands that set everything in motion. They were always—and Jaehwan really meant: always—balled into tight fists whenever Jaehwan was around; he concealed them sometimes in his coat pockets, his pants pockets, behind his back (once he'd crossed his arms, but had only looked ten times angrier when he'd done that). But no matter what he was doing, Taekwoon's hands were always made into fists like the one thing he wanted to do was reel back and give Jaehwan a good hit.

Which, really, wasn't a totally far-fetched idea. After all the awkward not-quite-conversations at Hakyeon's parties, and the one time Jaehwan spilled his coffee on Taekwoon's pants—(and he didn't really wanna remember when he'd tripped over his own feet and knocked over the newspaper rack right as Taekwoon was eyeing it). Jaehwan thought if he was Taekwoon, he'd wanna hit himself too.

But with his rhinoceros beetle safely back in its tank, plopped happily on a large orange slice, Jaehwan rolled into a cocoon of blankets as morning's first light seeped under his blinds. He wondered why Taekwoon would suddenly be nice to him. It wasn't often—hardly ever really—that someone returned one of his insects in tact. Often, they simply went missing and he knew they were off somewhere in bug limbo.

 

 

'He probably felt bad for you,' Hakyeon said the next morning, blankly, like this was the only possible explanation for Taekwoon's kindness. 'Or maybe he likes bugs? I dunno... I woulda killed it.'

Wonsik snorted with a mouthful of cereal, giggling lowly to himself. 'Doubt it.'

'I would! How do you even know what I'd do?'

The thought of his insects being squished—especially one as gentle as his rhinoceros beetle—brought on a wave of nausea. Jaehwan felt ill in an instant. 'Um.'

'Just be grateful,' Hakyeon went on, 'that it was Taekwoonie who found it. I mean anyone else would have killed it.' Smiling clandestinely, as if keeping a dirty secret, he sing-songed, 'Maybe someone's got a crush!'

With an insult blooming heavily on the end of his tongue, Jaehwan excused himself with a gritty goodbye. 'See you at school,' he threw at Wonsik, who waved without bothering to look up.

Hakyeon could be an idiot so often that it went by unnoticed a lot of the time, but this—Jaehwan kept scoffing. He never noticed Taekwoon beside him by the lift, cradling a sketch book in his large hands, but then he murmured hello and Jaehwan nearly lost it—stumbling backward, reeling away like Taekwoon was some ghost that had spooked him.

'Sorry,' Taekwoon rushed out, knuckles turning white around the spine of his book. Then he walked away, down the stairs, ready to take seven flights than stand in a lift with Jaehwan who may or may not have been totally rude right now. And it was kind of a kick in the teeth watching Taekwoon go so hurriedly.

Jaehwan groaned. If there was ever another reason for Taekwoon to hate him, this would be it.

 

 

Because Taekwoon refused to make eye contact anymore, Jaehwan tended to stay indoors when the other was out in the hall, usually at night, hunkered over a thermos of coffee and a painting of elaborate detail. Like now. In his pajamas, on the odd bench at the end of the hall; but because the sowbugs had gotten out—again, Jaehwan was on his hands and knees, eyeing the carpet for any signs of the small creatures. He was terribly aware of Taekwoon watching him. The weight of his gaze was like steel rods plopping one by one on the back of his head: heavy, miserably so. But he needed to find his damn bugs, he was supposed to show them to class Monday morning, and it was already midnight on Sunday. He really didn't have time to be picking through the ugly carpet like he was now.

'Need help?' came the faint, gentle tone of Taekwoon's voice.

Jaehwan peered up from under long eyelashes, staring up at Taekwoon's long frame; he was leering like a billboard, all broad shoulders and sharp lines. Looking at him was like gazing into an abyss. Horribly intimidating.

'Um.'

Taekwoon shoved his hands into his pockets, surely he was making fists yet again. 'I can help you... if uh—' He tore his gaze away suddenly, staring at the far wall at the end of the hallway. He looked ready to bolt. 'If you want me to help,' he blurted.

There was no way for Jaehwan to prepare for this. He couldn't remember how to speak, and there on the floor, like some dog pawing around other people's apartments really wasn't becoming of him. But Taekwoon didn't seem to mind; matter of fact, if Jaehwan was going to be honest it almost seemed like Taekwoon wanted to be around him. Maybe he was drunk.

'I... I think I got it covered?' Jaehwan said.

'OK—' and just like that: Taekwoon was walking off. His steps were increasingly fast-moving, like he couldn't get the hell out of there fast enough; Jaehwan sucked in a deep breath.

Calling out, he shouted, 'I mean— If you wanna help me, I... yeah. If you, like, don't mind?' He didn't want to laugh at the subtle catch in Taekwoon's stride, like he'd been startled by Jaehwan's sudden outburst; but it was kind of sweet in some far off way, seeing him jump like that.

Later, after a good twenty minutes had gone by, Taekwoon found the first of four sowbugs all neatly tucked into itself near a crumb by the elevator. And just as Jaehwan was about to give up—he could easily make a trip to the pet store in the morning, though his heart gave a guilty lurch at the idea—Taekwoon located two others, both scuttling lazily across the welcome mat of a nearby neighbor.

'Why are you being so nice?' Jaehwan hadn't really intended to ask, but to see Taekwoon handling the insects so kindly, spilling them into the glass jar Jaehwan had been carrying around all the time, made it hard to ignore anymore.

But Taekwoon, unfazed, only shrugged. He didn't offer an answer, so Jaehwan didn't ask again. And later still, something like one in the morning, after Taekwoon had already gone back to the bench where his painting was, Jaehwan found the last sowbug crawling on the eggshell wall of the apartment's kitchen. He let it fall alongside its companions in the jar, wondering silently about Taekwoon.

 

As a thank you, or more accurately: an excuse to speak to him, Jaehwan baked a tray of lemon squares a few days later, knowing well they were Taekwoon's favorite. But when he came to Taekwoon's flat, readying himself to knock and explain and maybe offer a cup of coffee to him, Jaehwan instead found Taekwoon's door open ajar. Poking his head in, he called, 'Taekwoon-nim?' but no response came.

So maybe he poked his head in a little further, and the hinges squealed giving away his intrusion. He was aware that breaking and entering might not be the best way to Taekwoon's good side, but the strong aroma of dust and hazy light from the sallow bulb above the stove was really off-putting, like something from a horror movie. That was when Jaehwan started imagining—in terribly gory detail—Taekwoon dead in the bathroom, or the bedroom, or on the balcony, hanging limp from a ceiling fan. Nobody ever knew what he was up to in the dank darkness of his apartment that was strikingly empty, save for a kitchen table that looked oddly familiar. Anything could have happened.

It was then Jaehwan noticed the paintings laid to dry. Immaculate landscapes, puffy white clouds so life-like they were startling. Setting the lemon squares aside, he leaned close to one painting in particular: it was of a mountain range, heaps of dirty browns and dust colored skies, he loved it at once.

'What are you doing?'

With a gasp, Jaehwan reeled back, almost knocked over the plate of lemon squares but Taekwoon had already found them. He was reaching for them as Jaehwan stumbled, and inadvertently Taekwoon caught him. It was strange, totally awkward: Jaehwan, braced against Taekwoon's arm like a life support and the clear confusion all over Taekwoon's face. He pulled his arm away as if burned and let Jaehwan wobble until he found his footing again.

He muttered, 'The door was open.' And because this wasn't a good enough reason to come into someone's home, he groaned: 'I dunno why I came in, I— sorry? Anyway...' he motioned to the lemon squares. 'Those are a, um, thank you? For helping me the other day.'

Taekwoon glanced down at the plate. A soft pink dusted his cheeks.

Pointing to the table, Jaehwan murmured, 'You're, um, like really good at that by the way.' But then Taekwoon looked at him again and his gaze was so vacant it came off as uneasy, as something mean, like maybe he was angry; so Jaehwan backed away, trying to laugh off his own idiocy. 'You seem busy, uh— I'll see you?' Then he was out the door, walking quickly back to his own flat that suddenly felt too far away. But once inside, his galloping heart subsided and he was able to breathe again; heat filled his face as he thought of how stricken Taekwoon had looked.

 

 

Two days later a familiar plate with an unfamiliar note tacked onto it showed up on Jaehwan's doorstep. The plate was empty and the note was small, a single smiley face with scribbled characters that might have said thank you (Jaehwan wasn't totally sure). But it was obvious who it was from. His face warmed this time for a completely new reason.

 

 

The forecast promised clear skies and perfect temperatures ranging in the low twenties—the best weather for what Jaehwan was planning for. The empty butterfly tank was now full, all his small caterpillars having flourished into their new forms; gently colored wings of pastel blues and deep turquoises fluttered rhythmically from inside the tank. The weather had warned for coming storms that weekend, so if Jaehwan was to release his newly evolved butterflies, it would have to be today.

But in the front office—where Sanghyuk jeered him lightly for hauling a gigantic tank downstairs by himself—Jaehwan waited, awkwardly by the lift. It was a Saturday and the breakfast provisions had already been set out. He'd been hoping to see Taekwoon, but it didn't seem likely anymore; surely he was back upstairs in the dark of his apartment, looming over another painting of great detail.

Spurned, and a little upset, Jaehwan turned back to the lift, pulling his tank alongside him. But before the doors could close, he spotted Taekwoon by the stairwell, coming down with a small styrofoam cup in hand. A refill, certainly. Never mind that the coffee was awful and Jaehwan could very easily make Taekwoon something tastier.

He called Taekwoon's name without much thought, holding a foot in the door to keep the lift grounded. And when the other looked up, stone cold and deathly serious, Jaehwan was shocked to see Taekwoon's hardened gaze soften at once. The deep crease of his forehead smoothed considerably, a gentle tug at the corner of his mouth—was that a smile? Jaehwan inquired silently.

He was beaming from inside the lift. He'd actually managed a smile from Taekwoon who, up until now, Jaehwan was sure hated his guts.

'Are you busy?' he asked. Then, 'Did you like the lemon squares?' Both questions were met with a steady gaze, Taekwoon mulling over the answers as if they required an elaborate response.

Finally, he nodded.

Jaehwan smiled. 'Cool. Uh,' and staring at the tank by his side, he motioned toward it. 'I'm going up to the roof right now. I gotta release these guys.' His heart leapt excitedly when Taekwoon looked into the tank, curious prod of his finger; he was so close his nose left a small smudge on the glass.

'Do you wanna help me?' Jaehwan asked. 'Could be fun.'

 

The lift only went so far and the two of them ended up in the fire escape a few floors up. The climb to the roof was a lot farther than Jaehwan had anticipated, but with Taekwoon carrying the bulk of the butterfly tank, he didn't feel the burn nearly as much as he would have.

Outside, in morning warmth, the pigeons burst and dispersed around the building, a beating of wings that was loud enough to fill the awkwardness of silence, and with the tank set on the roof's ledge, Taekwoon asked—rather delicately—if the butterflies were going to be OK.

'They know what they're doing,' Jaehwan explained. 'Mother nature and um, that stuff. They'll be alright.' Though Taekwoon didn't look all too convinced, he nodded anyway, watching with an intensity that was kind of cute as a particularly large, teal colored euthalia fluttered near the glass.

A large wind swept through, but once passed, Jaehwan gave the OK and Taekwoon lifted the top of the tank, allowing the butterflies their freedom. At first, they dawdled as if lazy. Their wings flapping gently; the euthalia landed cautiously on the lapel of Taekwoon's coat before fluttering away, out of reach with all the others. They appeared like petals in the wind: soft colors growing smaller by the second as they all ventured off into the city air.

Taekwoon hummed appreciatively. 'I don't like bugs, but butterflies are nice.'

Jaehwan smiled. He'd had a feeling Taekwoon would love them.

But as comfort was settling into his bones, Jaehwan was suddenly aware of Taekwoon's hands: balled tightly and then shoved into his pockets. It made Jaehwan's stomach shift uneasily. With a sigh, he asked, 'Why do you do that?' He motioned to Taekwoon's pockets. 'Every time I'm around you, you hide your hands.'

Taekwoon flinched, confused. Then he shrugged. 'Dunno. Never noticed.'

'You don't do it around anyone else.'

'How do you know?' Very seriously, he wondered aloud, 'Are you taking notes of what I do?'

Jaehwan blushed deeply. 'Guess so.' He felt a little awkward, even more so when Taekwoon smirked at him a moment later. But them warmth swarmed inside him as Taekwoon came forward, pulling his hands from his pockets.

'You make me nervous sometimes,' he whispered timidly. Jaehwan didn't dare speak, afraid of breaking Taekwoon's comfort. 'You're like... cute or whatever.'

Beaming, Jaehwan all but gaped at him. 'You think I'm cute?'

'Kind of.'

It was as good a compliment as any. Biting his inner cheek, tingles bursting from the soles of his feet, Jaehwan bumped his shoulder to Taekwoon's own. Very bravely, as if forgetting who Taekwoon was entirely, he rested his head to the other's shoulder; he wasn't surprised in the slightest when Taekwoon stiffened. But then he relaxed and Jaehwan imagined things would be OK between them.

'Wanna come have some good coffee with me?' Jaehwan murmured. 'I bought some Colombian beans that are really good, like, really really good.' He felt Taekwoon's hand touch his lower back; a soft touch, feather-light. It burned like fire.


End file.
